Earl of Devon was given to him, and he had a dress made for him to take his seat in, of velvet and gold, but the Queen would not allow him to wear it:[1] and yet, to her own and the ambassador's mortification, she learnt that he affected the state of a prince; that he spoke of his marriage with her as certain; that certain prelates, Gardiner especially, encouraged his expectation, and one or more of them had knelt in his presence.[2] The danger had been felt from the first that, if she persisted in her fancy for the Prince of Spain, Courtenay might turn his addresses to Elizabeth; the Lords would in that case fall off to his support, and the crown would fall from her head as easily as it had settled there.
More afflicting to Mary than these personal grievances, was the pertinacity with which the council continued, in their public documents, to describe her as Head of the Church, the execrable title which was the central root of the apostasy. In vain she protested; the hateful form—indispensable till it was taken away by Parliament—was thrust under her eyes in every paper which was brought to her for signature, and she was obliged to acknowledge the designation with her own hand and pen.
Amidst these anxieties, September wore away. Parliament was to open on the fifth of October, and either before or after the meeting the Queen was to be crowned. The ceremony was an occasion of considerable agitation; Mary herself was alarmed lest the Holy
